


Safe

by APgeeksout



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Comfort, Community: wrestlingkink, M/M, Safeword Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-03-02 04:01:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2798783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/APgeeksout/pseuds/APgeeksout
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They'd laughed a little when they'd chosen the word – so unsexy it'd surely stop them instantly – but it's hard to find the joke in it right now. </p><p>Originally posted <a href="http://wrestlingkink.dreamwidth.org/279.html?thread=12311#cmt12311">here</a> at the Wrestling Kink Meme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safe

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt:
> 
> "Bottom!Seth blurting out their safe word during sex and top!Dean taking care of him, comforting him, et cetera." at the [wrestling kink meme](http://wrestlingkink.dreamwidth.org) on dreamwidth (where everyone should come and play! ♥).
> 
> Set in a future/alternate version of the kayfabe universe where they've reconciled some time after Seth's heel-turn.

“Camel!”

They'd laughed a little when they'd chosen the word – so unsexy it'd surely stop them instantly – but it's hard to find the joke in it right now. His throat is tight around the word, heartbeat thudding in every part of him at once, breath hitching in his chest. He's not sure he'd be able to repeat it.

Luckily, he won't have to. Dean goes silent and freezes immediately. He helps ease Seth's descent to the floor when his knees buckle, then releases him.

“I have the key,” he says, all the steel and ice gone from his voice. He holds his palm out in Seth's line of vision, showing him the little silver key. “I'm going to turn you loose, okay?”

He gives a jerky nod, not meeting Dean's eye.

Dean settles on the floor beside him, putting them on the same level, letting Seth track all his movements as he makes them. He's doing everything methodically, cautiously, like Seth is a skittery animal he's trying not to corner.

He thinks, distantly, that he'd think this quiet, ginger Dean was cute, if it weren't so clear that he's scared him, if his own stomach were less twisted with anxiety and a hot flare of embarrassment.

Dean leans closer and reaches into the space behind him. He hears the faint snick of the cuffs being unlocked and feels Dean unfasten his left wrist. His touch is purposeful, business-like, doesn't linger on Seth's skin.

Seth finds himself equal parts grateful and disappointed.

He rolls his shoulders out, and when he brings his right arm forward, the cuffs hanging from his wrist, Dean pauses, waiting for permission in an absurd role reversal from the abandoned scene.

He extends the hand toward Dean, realizing belatedly how unsteady it is, fingers trembling as adrenaline deserts him. Dean makes quick work of the lock and tosses the cuffs into a corner, forgotten for now.

“What do you need from me?” His voice is a warm rasp, the one he uses in the ring or the locker room when he doesn't want the competition or the camera crew to overhear. It's the tone that's all and only for Seth.

Seth swallows hard, shakes his head, makes an aimless gesture with his hands. If he knew what he needed, what he could take, they wouldn't be doing this right now.

Dean must read the silent _fuck, i don't know_ in his fidgeting, because he spreads his hands and continues, gentle and even.

“Okay. Space? Would it be better if I got out of your hair for a little while?”

His head snaps up without his even thinking about it. It's the first time he's looked at Dean since he broke character, and it helps, helps so much. His eyes are soft and steady on Seth's face, and they warm even further as his mouth ticks up into the beginning of a smile.

“Yeah, space is for assholes,” Dean says soberly. “How're you feeling about the floor? Married to it, or do you want to try for the bed?”

“I'll get up,” he decides, surprising them both with his hoarse voice, if Dean's quickly-erased frown is any indication. He pulls himself to his feet; Dean hovers nearby, but he's steady enough now, physically anyway. His heart's even beating almost like a normal person's again. He makes his way to the bed without incident and sits.

“Am I okay to get in with you?”

He closes a hand around Dean's wrist and tugs him down onto the mattress. He knows what Dean is doing, and he appreciates it – that Dean isn't being sullen or angry, even after all the reasons Seth's given him, is a sign that he's found the right partner – but this hesitant, eggshell-cautiousness is so unlike him, so unlike _them_ , that it's starting to unsettle him almost as much as the botched scene.

Dean chuckles and settles against the headboard. “Okay, good. What else?”

“Can you –” he pauses to clear his throat. “Could I just put my head in your lap for a little while?”

“If that'll help,” Dean says, his expression so earnest that it squeezes at Seth's heart like a fist.

He shuffles down the mattress until he can rest his cheek on Dean's thigh, warm through the fabric of the jeans they didn't even get far enough for him to take off.

“I'm sorry,” he says, scratching his nails across the fabric that covers Dean's knee.

“Hey. No. You're not apologizing.” His tone is firm, but he's not giving orders; they're not in that place now. “It's not a party unless everybody's having fun.”

He feels Dean's hand stroke his hair back from his face, fingers coming back to his temple to card through it. It's not something he'd thought to ask for, but it's good. Lying here under the rhythm of Dean's fingers, soaking up his warmth, knowing how utterly safe he is, it's hard to believe how the anxiety had slammed into him earlier, taking his breath away like a hard bump from a high place.

“I thought I was ready to play it out,” he says, “I thought it would be good for us both.” He'd wanted Dean to punish him for his betrayal, wanted to show Dean how much he'd always belonged to him even through all the treachery. But he's only just gotten Dean back and hating him, being hateful, is a headspace he can't hack anymore.

“I already got what's good for me right here,” Dean says, voice light as he scratches over Seth's scalp. “Don't need therapy-sex; just you.”


End file.
